


Every raid is different.

by MeBeShe



Category: Vikings - Fandom
Genre: Biting, Boat Sex, Floki don't give a shit, Hair Pulling, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, Pain Kink, Ragnar don't give a shit either, Vikings are very tolerant of public sex, Voyeurism, blowjob, handjob, slight BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeBeShe/pseuds/MeBeShe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was nobody quite like Floki and Ragnar found that intoxicating. Floki, who painted his face like a woman, who was convinced that trees talked to him, who liked to run through the forest barefoot, who was never still and seemed in unable to walk in a straight line or talk sense like a normal person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every raid is different.

Every raid was different. Some brought gold and glory and thralls. Some brought nothing but frustration and empty boats. Some boats went on raids and never came back. But one thing all the raids had in common was the boats; they were tiny. They were small and cramped, so much so you got to know the person next to you very well and if someone on the boat got seasick, not only did you hear it, but you smelled, saw it, and sometimes (if you were unlucky) felt it on your face. 

So when Floki crawled into Ragnar’s lap one night, all sharp angles long planes, nobody on the boat cared. And if they did care, they didn’t comment on it. Floki kissed Ragnar hard, hard enough to break the skin, the taste of copper touching Ragnar’s tongue and Floki ground his hips down. He was already hard. That didn’t surprise Ragnar at all. Floki was an odd one, but there was something about him that made heat pool in the base of Ragnar’s spine. Floki bit down on Ragnar’s tongue as he worked his hand under Ragnar’s shirt, and ran his fingernails down Ragnar’s stomach. 

Ragnar hissed and bucked up into Floki’s lap, nearly dislodging the scrawny shipbuilder. Ragnar ran his hands down Floki’s arms, and tossed the leather vest aside causing to land somewhere amid the raven cages. Ragnar guided his hands under Floki’s shirt and up his torso, feeling his ribs as he went. He ripped his mouth from Floki’s just long enough to pull the green shirt over Floki’s head, and tangle it behind his back, keeping his arms in place. Floki grinned at Ragnar, bowing his back for added effect. 

Ragnar took a moment to admire the view of Floki’s pale skin in the light of the moon before biting a trail down his pale chest, leaving bites and bruises down to his sharp hip bones as he supported Floki’s weight with his arms. Ragnar wrapped one his arms, thick from years of shield use behind Floki’s back as he used his other hand to undo the laces of Floki’s pants. 

Floki never bothered with smallclothes, so his cock jutted out of pants, tall and slim like him, leaning just to the right slightly. Ragnar wrapped his free hand around it as he bit at Floki’s throat causing the man in his lap to gasp and hips to stutter as Ragnar pumped Floki’s cock in a way that was meant to bring quick pleasure, not to tease. Ragnar thought about bringing out his blade as he kissed and nibbled down Floki’s neck, but decided against it. If Floki behaved on this raid, he would use his blade next time. 

Floki smirked above him, and ground his hips down sharply, bringing his backside down on Ragnar’s cock. Ragnar ground down his teeth and bit hard on Floki’s shoulder, cause a shuddery moan to escape from the twig-thin man his lap. 

They soon developed a rhythm that had both of them gasping. Pleasure sang through Ragnar’s veins and made his breath catch. Floki was slim and quick and different, and had managed to work his way under Ragnar’s skin. There was nobody quite like Floki and Ragnar found that intoxicating. Floki, who painted his face like a woman, who was convinced that trees talked to him, who liked to run through the forest barefoot, who was never still and seemed in unable to walk in a straight line or talk sense like a normal person. Floki, the man in his lap gasping and writhing and causing the whole boat to move like a bucking horse. 

Ragnar could tell that Floki was close; his breath was catching and hips stuttering against Ragner’s throbbing cock. 

Ragnar worked the hand was behind Floki’s back upward, and grabbed a handful of the shipbuilder’s hair, and yanked his head sharply backward, exposing his throat to night sky. Ragnar bit down hard on the side of Floki’s neck, and tasted blood. Floki came hard over Ragnar’s hand, giving a keening cry that most likely woke every person on the boat that had managed to sleep through the thrashing motions. Ragnar didn’t care. Ragnar licked the bite mark as Floki came down from the high, and tucked the ship builder back in his pants and dipped his hand in the ocean to clean off. Floki kissed him deeply and pulled back. 

“Free my hands Ragnar.” Floki whispered against his mouth. Ragnar raised an eyebrow. Floki just stared him. Ragnar shrugged and released Floki’s hands from his shirt. Floki rubbed his wrists, and then shot Ragnar a wicked grin that went right to his cock. 

Floki slid down Ragnar’s legs and untied his pants and pushed them and his smallclothes down in one swift motion. Floki took Ragnar’s cock in his hand and took the head in his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks. 

Ragnar’s head hit the edge of the boat with a sturdy thunk as he bucked into the wet heat of Floki’s mouth. He worked both hands into Floki’s hair and held on as Floki worked up and down his cock, flicking his tongue against the underside and against the sensitive head. He pulled once on Floki’s hair as warning as he came down Floki’s throat, white lights dancing on the edges of his vision. 

He panted as he felt Floki put him in order and cracked his eyes open just enough to see Floki clean his mouth out with handful of ocean water. 

“You shouldn’t be drinking that. You don’t have any sanity left to spare.” Ragnar grinned as he rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head, admiring the marks he left on Floki’s body. 

Floki didn’t answer as he looked into the distance. “A storm is coming our way.”


End file.
